


Just A Little Bit More

by tangofox



Series: Poly!Amis [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: But lots of cute now, Fluff, Fluffity Fluf, M/M, Perhaps some smut in the future, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangofox/pseuds/tangofox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Amis fight the establishment by day, and fall in love with Jehan by night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Little Bit More

**Author's Note:**

> Go here to see my fancast for the Amis (http://archiveofourown.org/works/830352)
> 
> I am not sure if this is going to be a one shot. But if people want more of Poly!Jehan I would be happy to write more. This is my first time writing any polyamorous relationships so bear with me ^.^

It wasn't as if Jehan intended to collect lovers. He had always been a fragile soul in need of mutual affection and had sought it out young finding nothing more comforting that the touch of another. But now, at the age of twenty-six, he had the touch of several. 

He was sprawled over the sofa, his head in Coufeyrac's lap so the younger man could play with his hair, his feet in Combeferre's lap, the spectacled man's fingers trailing patterns along his bare ankle. Enjolras was sat on the floor, in reach of Jehan's hands if he felt the need to play with his golden curls. Times of rest like this were few and far between. Tomorrow they would plan and organise another protest, but for now, some had work, and some used the free time to relax. Jehan would feel much more at ease when everyone was at home and resting, of course his favourite times were when he was surrounded by those he loved. He was dressed in a big green sweatshirt that had once belonged to Grantaire (And still had the paint stains to prove it), and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans that almost looked painted on. 

“What’s for tea?” Jehan mumbles, rolling a little in the boys laps, getting a better view of the television. The twenty-four hour news channel was on at Enjolras's request, though for once their group was not mentioned in the local segment, they had been lying low for a while. The last time Enjolras had ended up with a black eye and Bahorel had been in prison for three days, they all felt very lucky that he was released due to lack of evidence.

“Whatever you're cooking for us Flower,” Courfeyrac tells him with a big grin, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to his mouth.

“I'll cook us something,” Combeferre offers quickly. The last time Jehan was left alone in the kitchen, they all ate peanut butter brownies for what felt like weeks. He had an uncontrollable sweet tooth and no portion control when cooking. It was a miracle he was still the skinniest boy in the group. “I could make you that chicken curry you like Jehan?”

The boy is grinning with glee then, still touching Courfeyrac as he leans up to kiss Combeferre with excited thanks, Enjolras torn away from the news to look at them and smile. This is what Jehan loves best, days with his boys; sharing. Usually they took it in turns, everyone had a date night with Jehan. Tonight was supposed to be Combeferre's, but they all ended up together. Combeferre and Enjolras were flatmates, so it was often a case of sharing Jehan's company; and the poet was always eager for more ways to spend time with his lovers.

“Maybe...start it later?” Jehan suggests, and hears Courfeyrac chuckle as he moves to sit close and kiss his neck, Jehan pressing his forehead against Combeferre's with a smile. He had dropped his hand off the sofa, holding out his palm invitingly, and Enjolras had pressed his cheek against it softly. 

Combeferre smiles but pulls away, running his fingers through the soft hair atop of Jehan's head, staring at him with absolute adoration. “If I don't start now we all wont be eating until midnight,” He says with a laugh, earning him a pout from the poet.

“You can't make me squirm with kisses and leave to cook.”

Courfeyrac snorts then, nipping at his neck. “Oi, me and Enjolras are still here.”

Enjolras nods too, kissing the knuckle of his index finger to remind him of his presence. 

“That's not fair though Combeferre I want you all,” He reasons, stretching his arms up in the air a little, grinning around at all three of them.

“What if I keep popping in to keep my eye on you all hm?”

Jehan seems to think about it for a long time, but he can feel Coufeyrac's hand snaking round, fingers dancing over his stomach and distracting him greatly. Enjolras too had continued to quietly kiss his knuckles “All right, all right!” He concedes, a little giggle escaping him as Coufeyrac's fingers dig into his sides and tickle at his skin, Combeferre smiling and standing up. 

Jehan watches him head off in the kitchen to cook, Enjolras taking his place on the sofa and kissing him softly. The man was often quiet in these moments; so different from his usual powerful and confident self, Enjolras wasn't shy, but was considerate, thoughtful in his movements. He smiles softly as he left Courfeyrac slowly lower him down onto the sofa, not breaking his kiss with Enjolras, opening his mouth slowly, lazily flicking his tongue over Enjolras's lip. He feels teeth at his neck, closing his eyes, hands at his jeans, knowing who they belonged to without even looking down. He knew each of them off by heart, the way their skin felt, what they tasted like, all so unique. And he loved each of them so intensely. 

He wasn’t sure how this even started, couldn’t remember a point when he didn't love all of them. His first boyfriend had been Courfeyrac, he had found him in a low year and taken him in, despite Jehan's issues, the heartache the young poet caused him. But Jehan had loved him back, and he had been introduced to his friends eventually. It all seems a blur after that. Perhaps it was Bahorel he took to bed next, or perhaps Combeferre. He knows it wasn’t Grantaire, he had been the last. He doesn’t remember there ever being jealousy, or fights. Of course there were plenty of discussions, and Jehan remembers talking to Courfeyrac about it the first time.  
He had never asked for permission, he didn’t feel he had to conform to monogamy because he was making love to one person on a regular basis. But he was overwhelmed to know that his beliefs were accepted, and that he could love freely. Routines were put in place so easily it felt as if they had always been there. Mondays with Enjolras. Tuesdays with Combeferre usually in the same apartment. Wednesdays then Thursdays with Bahorel and Courfeyrac respectively. Fridays with Grantaire, often the wildest night of the week. 

The weekends were free, either to spend as a group, as friends who made love, who loved each other dearly, or with Jehan alone, writing, smoking, creating.  
It didn't stop him slipping into his down moods, didn’t stop the pain that would never leave his brain. And sometimes he just didn't want to be loved at all. And they all understood it too. 

By day the Amis fought and protested about how wrong and cruel the world was. And by night they loved Jehan with all their hearts, and he loved them back as much as he possibly could.


End file.
